


The Alliance

by Sophrano



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Badass powers, Badass psychics, Klance fluff and angst, M/M, Rivals, Shiro is a boss, Spirit World AU, Spirit hunters, Voltron au, cool psychic gangs, especially badass Pidge, fights that i don't have the writing skills the write, klance, rival gangs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9398216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophrano/pseuds/Sophrano
Summary: In a world plagued with malicious spirits, nighttime is a deadly place to be alone. When Keith and his gang of psychics are offered an alliance with their longtime rival gang, and by even more mysterious leader Lance, it’s an offer he can’t deny. The people he considers family are being ripped away from him day after day, and both gangs must work together to get to the bottom of the kidnappings. Though he never expected things between him and Lance to grow into something more than a mutual alliance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first fanfic EVER let alone my first fanfic in the Voltron fandom. It is set in the AU of my (not yet made) webcomic. I may or may not continue depending on the response (i'm pretty nervous tbh.) I'd appreciate if you'd leave feedback in the comments and kudos (whatever that is.)

Keith moves briskly, padding soundlessly across the thickening snow. He pulls his scarf further up his face, feeling the cold bite of the wind relentless against his bare skin. Keith doesn’t mind it though. It makes him feel alive, causing a reckless surge of adrenaline to pass through his veins. He hugs the shadows of nearby buildings, sleekly moving to avoid detection. Keith wasn’t here to fight, but he felt the weight in his scabbard somewhat of a comfort against the spirits he could see in the distance. Admittedly, The spirits were hauntingly beautiful. Luminescent neon projections of light, each spirit taking on an individual form and colour. Some were shaped like animals even. As a psychic, the weaker ones tended to avoid Keith, choosing to prey on weaker humans who had the unfortunate displeasure of being caught outside at night. 

The thought drags his memories back to 4 years ago. When Keith had found himself alone on streets one night. Keith had been an orphan his whole life, though as a child he always had a home no matter how unwilling they were to have him in it. When he’d reached adulthood he was left with nowhere to go. Weak and helpless, it wasn’t long till the spirits had come swarming in, smelling the stench of an easy meal. With no means to defend himself, and his psychic gift still undiscovered, he should’ve died that night. But instead he was still here years later, thanks to Shiro. Shiro had saved him that night, his mere presence enough to scare away the weak spirits that had Keith outnumbered. Shiro had offered him a home at the Menagerie, even if it was an infamous gang, he’d appreciated it all the same. Shiro had become a brother to Keith (though it was undeniable he acted more like a smothering father at times) ,and the gang a family. 

Keith opts to move his thoughts away from the bittersweet memory, as he continues his trek. He considered himself lucky that he hasn’t encountered a spirit as of yet, and he wasn’t taking any chances by spacing out. His gaze flickers up to the large shadow ahead of him, that morphs into the bell tower as he lifts his eyes. It wasn’t my any means that big, but it was enough to give Keith a good vantage point over the city. Keith begins to scale the building without a second thought, the act a regular ritual. He’s close to the top now, resting on a ledge just below as he prepares to clamber up. Cursing about numb fingers, Keith attention is shifted by a rustle of fabric nearby. He looks up startled, breath hitched in his lungs as he focuses on the silhouette of a figure only metres away. As he looked closer he realizes it's a boy, eyes a glowing bright blue and staring curiously at him. His skin is tanned, shimmering slightly in the moonlight. Keith freezes in shock, leaving him immobile and speechless. Tightened around the bottom half of the boy’s face is a decorative bandanna that Keith is all too familiar with. At the sight of it Keith mind lurches into action, processing the situation in front of him. 

“Shit” he hisses ducking out of view.

Keith hurriedly ducks down, now perching on the ledge, and hopefully, out of sight of the stranger. As he struggles to regain his breath, Keith recalls the bandanna that had made him so startled in the first place. It was a plain black, but the image of a unnervingly large white grin decorating the simple fabric plastered itself in Keith’s brain. That alone made it unsettling, though annoyance surged through Keith at its significance. The grin bandanna was the symbol for Nonchalant. Keith wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be scary, because all it looked like to him was some shitty fashion statement. Over the 4 years Keith had been at Menagerie, the two gangs have had their fair share of skirmishes, and had somehow started to sport the name of rivals. Keith really wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and considers slipping away until he hears a low chuckle from above him. 

“You know there’s enough room here for the two of us” the stranger says, voice slightly muffled under the bandanna. 

Keith calms his breathing, and carefully straightens from his perching stance to get a good look at the stranger. The stranger is sat at the edge of the roof, legs dangling absently over the edge like a child on a swingset. He’s close, only a couple metres separating them. The stranger’s gaze settles curiously on Keith, considering him with a soft expression. Keith rests his arms over the top of the roof, feet still balanced precariously on the ledge below. Keith watches as the stranger noticed the menagerie tattoo on his arm, but contrary to Keith’s reaction he seems mostly unfazed by the marking.   
The stranger’s eyebrow lifts questioningly, before he pulls down the bandanna brazenly to speak .

“Menagerie? Shouldn’t you be kicking the shit out of me or something?” he says, a coy smile perking up his face. 

Keith doesn’t know what fuck is happening, which is pretty evident from the furrowing of his brow and the subtle pout of his lips. 

“Do you want me to?” He questioned, dragging the words out slowly. Before the stranger can respond Keith’s brow furrows even more. “Wait. Why aren’t you kicking the shit out of me?”

The two gangs had been infamous for their brawls, which Pidge, of course, found trivial, but Keith indulged in them for his own selfish reasons. 

The stranger shrugs, leaning back casually. He looks mildly amused at Keith’s reaction.

 

A silence stretches between them, like a game of chess, the two sit there struggling to predict the other’s next move. An unattractive snort snatches Keith’s attention, and he glares at the stranger. The stranger smothers a giggle into his hand, his eyes crinkling in laughter.

“Dude, is that a mullet? I didn’t know Menagerie was some 80’s fucking biker gang” 

The stranger’s only laughter increases when Keith self-consciously reaches behind his head to touch his hair. Keith’s confusion slowly morphs into anger as he lashes out a retort.

“Yeah well at least I don't have a fucking tablecloth tied to my face.”

The stranger gasps in mock offence.

“I actually thought it was pretty cool! It’s edgy and mysterious” He winks, eyes lowered seductively. 

“Like me.”

At this point Keith is sorta done with this unbearable idiot’s shit. He opens his mouth to say another insult, but stops when he sees the stranger’s expression. His blue eyes widen in shock and he stares agape at something behind Keith. 

“Oh shit” he mumbles, gaze flicking back to Keith as the stranger clumsily clambers closer to him. 

He tugs at Keith’s wrist before he can say a word, hastily pulling a confused Keith fully onto the roof. Regaining his balance, Keith looks over his shoulder, finding a spirit coming towards the two at an alarming speed. He curses, taking in ferocity of the spirit. It’s shaped like a snake, its fangs sharp and pointed. It’s colored a blinding neon pink that Keith has to shield his eyes from. But what makes it the scariest is its size. In full in must be around 9 metres. "Floats" Keith deems, is an extreme understatement. It charges towards them at a unnerving speed, it's coils of pink thrashing dauntingly as it spreads its body out in preparation for attack. The stranger tugs insistently at Keith's wrist, snapping his mind out of his dazed awe as he stared upon the majestic and terrifying spirit before them. The stranger pulls both himself and Keith to crouch behind the bell that lies in the centre of the tower’s roof. He looks at the stranger expecting to see a mirror of his own confused terror, but instead the stranger has a look of focused resolve. 

"You're a psychic, right?" he says, his eyebrows drawn in concentration. 

All Keith can do is nod dumbly before the stranger continues.

"Alright then. Then I guess we have no choice to fight" the stranger looks back at Keith, a daring smile just faintly touching his lips. 

He rises from his crouching position, stopping to stretch before pulling the bandanna back over his mouth. And then he's gone, darting skillfully across the roof.   
Finally snapped out of his daze and getting a handle on the situation, Keith sighs, shaking his head. 

"This guy is fucking insane." 

But before he can question it anymore, he's already drawn his sword. It quakes slightly as Keith channels his psychic powers into the sword, making it glow a bright red, an unnatural mimic of a fire burning on the rim of the blade. Though he knows how stupid and reckless this is, he can't help feeling excited at the prospect of a fight.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The excitement had gone as quickly as it came when Keith realized they were fighting a losing battle. The spirit was fast, and the few hits Keith did manage to strike seemed to do little except slow it down. The stranger was undoubtedly a high-level psychic. He didn’t need to manifest his psychic energy into a weapon like most psychics, rather he was able to manipulate water into ice with the flick of his hand. He manipulated the ice into daggers, that he shot from his hands. The snake spirit lunged forward at a defensive Keith, it’s fangs bared in attack. Fatigue had started to settle in, and Keith darts out the way a fraction too slow. He reels back in pain as he felt the sting of tooth on flesh. The stranger forges an ice blade with a whirl of his hands, taking on the spirit one on one. Keith was grateful for the distraction, but his relief dissipates when he surveys the damage on his arm. Mangled bits of flesh are tainted with blood that just seems to keep on coming, and the deep puncture of the fangs is clearly visible against his luminescent skin. The sight makes his stomach lurch, so he hurriedly looks away from the mess. He slumps to the ground, encasing himself in the shadow of the bell. 

Keith can just barely see the stranger, who seems to be just barely deflecting the attacks with shields of ice that break instantaneously as the snake spirit headbutts them viciously. Keith considers getting up and fighting, but he knows his sword wouldn’t be enough, let alone he was too injured to fight. His sword was good, sure, but it was only suited to one-on-one close combat with spirits that mirrored the same tactics. The mere size of the spirit was enough to make the sword useless. As for the stranger’s ice manipulation, it didn’t seem to do much but slow the spirit down before it broke through each shield and weapon conjured with little effort. The stranger was beginning to fall back, his attacks becoming less and less until he was completely on the defensive and Keith knew it wouldn’t be long till they both wound up dead. 

“Freeze it, quickly!” 

Keith’s head snaps towards the source of the shout, craning his neck to see a panicked Shiro on the other side of the roof. Pidge emerges soon after, clambering awkwardly up after Shiro, and equally scared look on her face. The stranger gives Shiro a confused look, hesitating before obeying Shiro’s order. Fractals of ice begin to appear on the surface of the snake, stopping its movement momentarily. The effort seems to cause intense exertion, as the stranger’s face screws up in concentration. Keith knew it would be all be futile, since the spirit would break free soon thereafter. But the stranger continues to do it anyway. Shiro prepares himself, stance wide as soon as the snake spirit has ceased to move, carefully encased in a thick layer of ice. Keith watches as Shiro’s prosthetic arm glows a blindingly bright purple, as he channels his psychic energy into the now white-glowing prosthetic hand. He leaps up with a war cry,meeting the snake spirit which had now escaped the grasp of the ice. Shiro lunges toward it with a practiced swipe, his glowing hand connecting with the spirit, causing a large flash of white-purple to flood Keith senses. Instinctively, Keith’s hand comes up to top of his forehead, shielding himself from the blinding flash, which now changed to the neon pink of the spirit. It dies down moments later, and Keith is left looking at Shiro, who had at one point crumpled down to the ground. Keith sits there in awe, taking in the events that had happened moments earlier. Shiro had exorcised the spirit, a powerful skill that made Shiro the leader of the Menagerie. He hadn’t dispelled the spirit through brute force like Keith had attempted, but had channeled his spiritual energy into what was a touch of a hand. Where Keith had attempted to hack off a weed, Shiro had pulled it up from the root.

Pidge let out a screeching noise from the back of her throat, before rushing over the Shiro hastily. She knelt down next to him scanning him for any damage. 

“Shiro! Are you okay? Are hurt?”

Pidge looks at Shiro nervously. 

Shiro lifts his head, a small smile touching his lips. 

“I’m fine. Just a little exhausted after that exorcism.” He looks around, eyes finally settling on the stranger.   
“Thanks.” He says gratefully, nodding his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment.

Pidge lets a little gasp as she notices Keith, who is slumped down, figure still encased in the shadow cast by the bell. She scrambles over to him, a look of worry on her face. Keith expects the same treatment as Shiro, but instead she scowls, eyebrows drawn in annoyance.

“What the fuck were you thinking!” she shouts glaring him in the eye. 

Keith lets out a weak chuckle in his delirious state of pain. Pidge’s eyes soften into some semblance of concern as she surveys his arm. 

“Obviously not at all” she grumbles, scrutinizing the severity of the injury. Keith’s gaze flick to Shiro as he notices his movement. Shiro rises from his crouching position, brushing off the snow off his coat . He makes his way towards Keith and Pidge. Keith prepares himself for a lecture, or a scolding at least, but instead he sighs, a look of worry on his face.

“Let’s get you home.” 

Both Shiro and Pidge readjust Keith so they can loop their arms around him in support. They slowly drag Keith to his feet, a hiss escaping his mouth when Pidge accidentally brushes his wound.

“Shit! Sorry Keith.” Pidge winces, lightly readjusting her grip under Keith’s arm. 

“Wait.”

The voice of the stranger catches the two’s attention, and they warily turn to face him. He stands awkwardly several metres away, snow falling on his brow hair. He walks cautiously over to them, boots crunching on the snow. 

Pidge wrinkles her nose, noticing the infamous bandanna now hanging on his neck.

“Your a Nonchalant?” she spits, frowning in disgust. 

The stranger ignore the comment, instead focusing his gaze on Shiro. 

“Here, take this,”

He opens his palm, revealing pink powdered dust, seemingly the remnants of the spirit.

The stranger gestures awkwardly to Keith, who is now slumped unconscious on Shiro’s shoulder.

“It’s medicinal. It’s should work as an antivenom for his injury” he mumbles, passing the dust nimbly over to Shiro, his confidence visibly shook. 

Shiro takes it cautiously, before giving the stranger a curt nod. 

The stranger smiles a little.

“Tell sleeping beauty when he wakes up that we’ll meet soon enough.” And with that he turns on his heel, and disappears down the side of the tower without another word.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Keith wakes up with a throbbing headache, and an arm that feel like it had been drained of all blood, he decides that he’s never woken up feeling so shitty, despite the many times that have come close. He in his bedroom, splayed haphazardly across his bed. He lets out a pained groan as he rolls on his side, clutching his head in agony. He hears a sigh close by.

“Is it really that bad? You need me to drug you up more?”

Keith calms a little at the familiar snide tone of the comment. He opens his eyes to see Pidge sat crossed legged on a chair resting next to the bed. She smiles a little, but he can see from the bags under her eyes that she probably got little sleep because of him. His heart warms a little at the prospect of Pidge staying with him through the night. When Pidge joined the Menagerie, she’d been closed off and defensive. He knew she’d joined only to find her family, but it was undeniable the friendship that had grown between the two at their time in the gang.

Keith rolls back onto his back looking blankly up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. 

“Some more pain-killers would be nice.”

“Okay junkie just gimme a sec.” He hears the pad of feet, and then a rustling a few metres away. 

Pidge returns with a cup with a cloudy whitish liquid inside. Keith brings up the liquid to his mouth a takes a tentative sip, his nose immediately wrinkling in disgust.”

“This takes like shit.” He says, swallowing the liquid with much displeasure.

“It’s better than feeling shit.” Pidge says shrugging, readjusting her glasses with a sigh.

“Where’s Shiro?” Keith asks, downing the rest of the liquid in one go. 

“On a hunting trip.”

At this Keith shoots up in his bed.

“Without me?” He questions, frowning deeply

Pidge lets out a wry chuckle, and settles a sardonic glare at Keith.

“Trust me, your presence is not being missed. Plus, you need to take your time recovering.”

Keith exhales, realizing he overreacted a little.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He crumples back into the bed. “I’m gonna sleep a bit more.”

Pidge nods understandingly, and turns to leave. She pauses at the doorway, head turning over shoulder.

“Oh and by the way...” 

Keith raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“That Nonchalant thug last night...He told us to tell you that you’d meet soon.” Pidge frowns at her own words, as if considering the exact meaning of what she said. 

“Whatever. Just call me if you need me. I’ll be in engineering room. She turns to leave before Keith can say anything back.

His thoughts flick back to the stranger, and the events of last night. The mysterious psychic. It was quite a skill to be able to manipulate elements competently through psychic power (Keith himself had only barely grasped fire), but he’s never seen someone use it in battle. The elements were difficult to control, and took much mental exertion. Many psychics usually chose a less demanding output to their powers, often manifesting their energy in the likes of a weapon. Psychic powers came in many forms, Keith had even heard of a time manipulating psychic, but ice was something new entirely to Keith. The stranger had saved him. His mind jumps back to the image of the stranger pulling a confused Keith to safety, and distracting the snake spirit from him when he was injured. But another thing plagues his mind as Keith thinks back the bandana. He was a Nonchalant. Menageries rival gang. He had no reason to save him. Keith sighs in resignation as he feels the effects of drugs kick in, making him sleepy. It makes his head hurt even more to think about why an enemy would help him out, but nevertheless he settles into an uneasy sleep plagued with dreams of spirits, creepy grinning bandannas and boys with pretty blue eyes.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a big space between chapters 1 and 2. I'll try to update more frequently. Also the chapter is a little short, but if I don't post what I've written so far then I wont be motivated to post it lolol.
> 
> Shameless self promotion time, follow my tumblr: https://sophranoe.tumblr.com/
> 
> I might draw some art for this fic ;)

Keith padded along the corridors, his bare feet pattering quietly against the wood floor. He noted it was much quieter than usual. He was accustomed to the usual din of chatter and boisterous laughter of his comrades in the rooms nearby. Though he never really was the social type, the sound was comforting nevertheless. He was fond of some of the members close to Shiro, but honestly he was a bit of a loner with the exception of Pidge. He wasn’t sure where he was walking to at first, the grogginess induced by last night's events hanging over him like a black cloud. But the thought of Pidge unconsciously led him toward the lab. 

The base of the Menagerie was a large place, a mismatched mansion outfitting labs, training rooms and even accommodation. Sure, it was a gang, but The Menagerie was also a business. It was profit. Spirit hunting was a solid economy built off fear, but also necessity. People hired them to kill specific spirits mostly. A spirit could plague someone’s dreams, and until a psychic could destroy its physical form, the spirit could cause deep psychological damage. Keith shudders at the thought. He knew Shiro had been a victim to nightmare spirits. Whenever Keith brought it up it was clear Shiro did not want to talk about it. 

Though gang’s intentions and methods weren’t always pure, it didn't negate the fact that they helped more than they hindered. Psychic gangs were common in the city, though it was The Menagerie and Nonchalant that always came out on top when it came to money. 

Keith reached Pidge’s lab quickly. Though the base was practically a maze with all it’s corridors and multiple floors, he had come to find that Pidge could most likely be found in the lab on the 3rd floor. The third floor was more desolate, which Keith assumed why Pidge liked it so much up here. It was here where she retreated to be alone. His hand hovers hesitantly over the handle, considering going in. Keith did feel a little guilty for intruding into her private space, but he was desperate for some company. That and he had a million questions to ask her. 

With a defeated sigh Keith opens the door. The lab looked quite generic. White swallowing the whole room in a sickly sterile sort of way, lime green workbenches scattered variously around the room. An assortment of tech and wires are littered haphazardly around the room, organisation clearly not a value of Pidge’s. Half built projects are mixed in with junk, and a few tools scattered around in the mess. The whole ensemble was quite charming really, Keith thought. Keith located Pidge among the clutter, finding her frowning intently at a hologram screen. She hadn’t noticed him yet, but Keith didn’t want to ruin her concentration. He skirts around the edge of the room, carefully avoiding the junk that threatens to spill over the bench. He’d been in the lab a few times, but she made it clear she didn’t like to be interrupted. Keith lazily leans on a bench nearby Pidge, curiously inspecting the screen she’s tapping maybe a little too aggressively. She lets out a distressed noise from the back of her throat, her frown deepening as she peers closer to the glowing screen. 

“What are you doing?” Keith blurts out, making Pidge yelp in surprise. 

She whips around taking in Keith with a look of shock.  
She deflates a little, rubbing her temples in a way a middle aged man might do in a mid-life crisis.

“Oh. It’s just you. Did you really have to surprise me asshole?” She deadpans, annoyance creeping into her voice.

Keith hums in response ignoring Pidge’s sharp comment. 

“I’m running diagnostics on your sword actually. It looked pretty beat up after what happened last night. A few minor issues. My expertise aren’t psychic weapons, but it should be easy enough to fix.”

The mention of his sword piques Keith’s interest, but he doesn’t pry. He didn’t really get the sciency shit behind psychic weapons.

He taps his fingers gently across the workbench, his gaze fluttering absently around the room.

Pidge’s expression softens a little as she studies Keith.

“You any better captain?”

He frowns.

“Captain?”

Pidge grins lazily, clearly amused at Keith’s question. She shrugs.

“Yeah, well with Shiro on a hunting trip, that makes you the temporary captain of the gang.”

Keith lets out a groan, giving Pidge his biggest scowl he could muster. It was true, for some part. Keith was pretty much Shiro’s right-hand man. There wasn’t officially a second in command, but it was common knowledge of Shiro and Keith’s closeness. If there was anyone who knew Keith hated responsibility, it was Pidge.

Pidge chuckles at Keith’s response flashing him a shit eating grin.

“Don’t call me that, and yes I feel a lot better.” Keith contemplates his next words before he continues hesitantly. 

“Actually I was thinking, now I’m feeling better.... I could catch up to Shiro-”

He’s cut off by Pidge’s sharp condescending laughter. 

“I’m under strict orders, courtesy of Takashi Shirogane, to keep your ass away from the outside until you heal up. Fuck’s sake Keith, you have a literal chunk of flesh missing from your arm.” Pidge says, a little pissed by Keith’s recklessness, though it was mostly concern in her voice. 

He glances to his arm, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around it.

“God, your worrying is as nearly as bad as Shiro’s”

Pidge narrows her eyes, a smart remark ready to be fired at Keith. Before she could they were interrupted by noise coming from the other side of the lab. Shay burst through the door, her laboured breaths evident she’d been in a rush. Sweat lined the top of her forehead, as he leant against the frame of the doorway catching her breath. Keith didn’t know Shay well. He knew that she was a healing psychic, and most often went on hunting trips with Shiro.

Then why was she here?

Shay lifted her gaze, quickly seeking out Pidge and Keith.

“There you guys are!” She quickly made her way towards the two, her breaths becoming more even. 

Now Keith could see her closer, he noticed the panicked expression on her face.

“Shay...What’s wrong? Why are you back from the trip early?” Pidge says cautiously, her brow drawn.

Shay’s face fell in anguish.

“The hunting trip…” She stutters. “It..It was botched. They weren’t going in too far to the forest, so I stayed near the edge of the forest for safety. If any of them got hurt, I’d be there nearby to heal them. If they needed me they could just tell me” her hand unfurls, revealing a earpiece designed by Pidge herself.

Her voice thickens on the brink of sobs. “But they didn’t. I heard screams. The time i got there…” She cracks finally, her panic morphing into sadness as sobs escapes her. 

Pidge looks stricken and confused as she grips Shay tightly by the shoulders. 

“Shay. What happened” she says firmly. 

Shay looks up in despair.

“They’re gone” she croaks. “Shiro, the whole team on the hunting trip. Gone. There...there was some blood...But no bodies.”

Keith stands there silently. Pidge began to ask more question, but Keith tuned them out in his shocked daze. It couldn’t of been spirits. No, the bodies would still be there. It had to be a planned attack. Humans did this. A sick thought passes through his head. 

Had Shiro been kidnapped? 

Shay’s words snap him out of his daze. 

“I also found this nearby” Shay pulls out a piece of cloth from her pocket. A sharp jolt of anger shoots through Keith as he studies the cloth closer, his suspicions confirmed. 

It was a bandanna.  
\------------------------------------------

Pidge was devastated really, but Keith...Keith looked like he would cast the fire of satan on anyone who came near him. Pidge knew why. That idiot was probably jumping to conclusions again. She glanced over at Keith, already reading his thoughts. With the presence of the Nonchalant bandanna and the missing team, it was easy to put 2 and 2 together. The two gangs got into plenty of fights before, each more getting more pointless than the last. It was true the gangs were age-old rivals, but the only beef they really had with each other was the competition of the spirit hunting economy. 

Pidge didn’t know a lot about the gang. But she was scared to think they would resort to such dirty tactics as kidnapping or killing competition. 

But that made Pidge think even more. Her father and brother had both been Psychics, though not the one like Shiro who went out to fight. They were scientists and engineers. She had fond memories of their small shop front that proudly had been home to their forgery. The business had begun small, and understandably so. There were dozens of blacksmiths and weapon-makers in the city. But her family had gone a step further. Her father learnt how to properly harness Psychic power, and manifest it in a weapon. The business had become a big deal after that, and Psychics all over the city had come to their small shop front. 

It was soon after that when her brother and father disappeared. 

Could it be Nonchalant after all who had her family?

Pidge sighed in frustration. Finding her family was her top priority and the reason she had joined The Menagerie in the first place. If this was a possibility, she was all means going to pursue it. But that didn’t mean she wasn't going to try stop Keith before he went batshit crazy and fucked something up. 

“Look Keith. You can’t-”

Keith turns to Pidge looking her dead in the eye.Though he was still shaking with anger, there was resolute seriousness set in his eyes. 

“Pidge. We are going to go up to those tea-towel motherfuckers, beat the shit out of them, and get Shiro and the others.”

Keith seemed to recognize the look on her face, because moments later the anger radiating off him dissipates. He looks understandingly at Pidge.

“And we’ll get your family too.” 

All Pidge could do was nod dumbly, all sense gone out the window at the mention of her family.

Keith turns to leave, dragging a dumbfounded Pidge by the sleeve. He turns around briefly, his gaze settled on Shay.

“You coming? We’re going to Nonchalant HQ.’

Shay turns to face warily at Keith, her face scrunched up in confliction.

“I-The other thing I need to tell you. Keith. They’re here right now. And the leader wants to speak to you.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lane stood there, arms wrapped protectively around himself. He didn't care if he looked vulnerable, because fuck was it cold.The snow whipped aggressively against him despite his thick clothing. He pulled up a scarf that had replaced his bandanna further up his face. 

“I wonder if that mullet kid would invite us inside for a hot cup of cocoa” He says thoughtfully, voice muffled under the thick fabric of the scarf. 

As he heard Hunk’s resonate laugh beside him, Lance thought Hunk laughter could have been enough to warm him up. Lance had been half-serious though, if everything went according to plan. Lance and a few other members of Nonchalant had gathered outside the headquarters of The Menagerie, requesting a meeting with the leader. Lance had made it sound urgent and threatening when he’s asked to meet with their leader, yet there he still was, freezing his ass off. He’d been waiting for what must’ve been 30 minutes now. He was tempted to knock again, until her heard the sound of the great wooden double doors swing open. He didn’t expect to see the emo kid from last night, yet there he was, a smaller kid with round glasses at his side. Several other members were congregated nearby.

He hadn’t really been able to see the mullet kid that well in the dark last night, but damn, he was hot. Despite his hairstyle being a mullet, Lance admitted it suited him. His dark hair curled silkily around the sides of his down the nape of his neck. His eyes were pretty, a dark indigo-grey lined with thick eyelashes. He mentally slapped himself. Not the time for gay thoughts, Lance. 

Lance’s eyes drifted around the cluster of Menagerie members, one particularly authoritative figure not seemingly in sight. 

“So...Who’s the leader around here..?”

“Me.”

Lance’s gaze snapped immediately to the familiar voice.

He groaned internally. Who fucking else would it be. Why did the universe always do cruel shit to him?

Lance hummed thoughtfully at the kid. It was a surprise, definitely. The kid himself seemed unsure when he said it. 

“The name’s Lance.”

“Keith.” He returned dryly.

If he thought he snow was cold it was nothing compared to the deathly stare that Keith bore into him. 

Lance knew things hadn’t exactly gone smoothly last night (though he was sure his flirting was on point), but he didn’t know what he had done to deserve Keith’s hostility.

Keith’s eyes narrowed on Lance.

“Don’t tell me you’re the leader of Nonchalant.”

“Hey I’m pretty surprised too buddy.” He clicks his tongue. “You don’t seem like the leader type either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I appreciate comments and kudos, they make me motivated to write more :)


	3. Should I continue this fic ?

Hey I just remembered this fic and wondered if anyone was interested in me continuing it? I like the plot and setting and am considering to pick up where I left off. Comment your thoughts below.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I plan on doing more chapters (as i have a lot of story to explore) depending on if I get a good response. I'm a little wary if people will like it or not, but I promise there will be a lot of Klance in future chapters ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> I also apologize for my shitty writing skills rip


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